Frost
by Juular
Summary: Prequel to Frozen: High School sucks. That's just the simple truth. But, sometimes the bonds you form with those around you can serve to make up for the hardships, big and small. RiPa/AU -Ch. 1 Posted-


Chapter 1: Young Blood (Who We Are)

The sudden, jarring blare of a radio made Yuna bolt upright in bed. She was momentarily blinded by the bright sunshine filtering in from the window while her hand sought out her radio alarm's snooze button. Once peace was restored, she immediately collapsed backwards, hopefully into a deep, fuzzy darkness. She turned onto her stomach and buried her face in her soft pillow, desperately wishing for the light to go away.

"Hey!" A happy voice burned through the silence. "Get up, sleepy head."

"Go away!" Yuna pleaded, the pillow muffling her voice.

An exasperated sigh was quickly followed by, "Yunie, if ya don't get up you're gonna be late for the first day of high school."

Yuna sighed, her conscience now at war. "I could care less, right now."

There was a gasp, "Am I hearing this right?" There was silence for a moment, then something, or some_one_, landed on Yuna's bed, jolting her again. "Yunie wants to skip?" Her cousin pawed at her like a playful cat, dragging her onto her back. Yuna sobbed pitifully as the sun beat at her eyelids, but Rikku just huffed.

"Rikku, I really don't . . hey . . _hey!_ . . st-stop it!" She yelled through laughter as her cousin started to tickle her mercilessly. "Wha-What are y-you . . doing?"

Rikku paused and grinned madly at her cousin, "Normally I'd be all for helping you cut class, but this is the _first_ day! If you don't come, you'll be completely lost."

"Oh, and you'd be no stranger to that, right?" Yuna retorted, smiling devilishly.

Rikku gasped dramatically, "Oh, no you did _not_!" She cried, pouncing on her cousin once again, her nimble fingers attacking Yuna's sides and stomach. Yuna shrieked with laughter and tried to fight back, but her cousin was quicker and had the upper hand – she'd landed the first blow, so to speak. Yuna managed to get a foothold, and, once Rikku was distracted, she pushed the blonde off the bed.

Rikku yelped once, and then hit the floor with a loud thud. Yuna crawled to the edge of the bed and peered over, still giggling to herself. Rikku, who was laying mostly still on the floor, was doing pretty much the same. Soon, both were laughing raucously. Rikku wiped away tears and pushed herself up.

"You didn't have to push me, ya know," she informed.

Yuna shrugged innocently, "Seemed like the right thing to do."

"I'm sure it did," Rikku said with a roll of her green eyes. In a flash, Rikku leaned forward and gave her cousin a playful, limp-wristed little slap. Yuna gasped in shock while Rikku bolted out of the room and locked herself in the bathroom, giggling breathlessly as Yuna pounded on the door, seeking vengeance for the attack.

"Come on, you coward!" Yuna challenged, pressing herself against the door. "That was a blatant insult, plain and simple! Now come out and face me!"

"No way! I got in here first, so you have to wait!" Rikku yelled back as she started the shower up.

"Brat!" Yuna jabbed. She relented and went back to her room, figuring that now would be a good a time as any to get a few more minutes of sleep. _Her loss_, she thought smugly, curling up under her warm blankets. Just as soon as she seemed to be comfortable again, Rikku was yanking her covers off.

"Up and at 'em!" Rikku snapped. "Come on, Yunie!" She said a little firmer when her cousin curled up into a little blue (the color of her pajamas) ball in the middle of the now blanket-less bed. Tapping her foot impatiently, Rikku ran out of the room. Yuna peeked up at her open door, but quickly ducked back down when she heard the sound of feet returning. She readied herself for whatever her devious, evil little relative had planned. No matter how obtrusive, loud, or tear-inducing it would turn out to be, she had to-

"_Ohmygod!_" Yuna shrieked, diving off of her bed in a chaotic barrel-roll. Rikku had gone even further, it seemed, and poured a glass of water filled with ice chips on her.

"Oh! You're up," Rikku said, looking both totally innocent and ready to do even worse, should Yuna persist in her stubbornness. Yuna peered over her bed at the blonde, her two-toned eyes locking onto Rikku with such vehemence that Rikku felt a shiver run down her spine. "Shower time, Yuna, dear," she said, thumbing back to the open door. Yuna slowly stood, her face and hair soaked. Rikku grabbed the clothes Yuna had set out for herself the night before and tossed them to her.

"I'm so going to _kill_ you, later!" Yuna hissed as she marched past the shorter girl.

"Lookin' forward to it, sweetheart!" Rikku sang, twisting on the balls of her feet to watch Yuna go. A sudden tug in her heart had her running out into the hall. "Yunie!" She called, sounding a little frantic.

"Huh?" Yuna turned curiously. Rikku bit her lip in indecision before running to her cousin and catching her in a flying hug. "Whoa!" Yuna yelped, arms clamping around the smaller girl in surprise.

"Sorry I can't be riding the bus with you," Rikku sniffed into her shoulder.

Yuna giggled, "Is that what this is about?" Rikku had always been protective of her cousin, even if Yuna was older and a little bigger than her. She always had been, ever since Yuna's coming to live with Rikku and her father (Yuna's uncle, Cid) after her parents' deaths.

"Mm-hm," Rikku answered, nodding just a little.

Yuna laid a little kiss on her cousin's head and managed to pull back and look her in the eye, "I'll be fine, Rikku. But, thank you."

Rikku looked as if she might tear up, "If anyone on the bus picks on you, you let me know, 'kay?" She commanded, prodding Yuna in the shoulder. "I'll whack 'em good tomorrow!"

Yuna shook her head and gave a gentle laugh, "See you later, Rikku." With that, she headed into the bathroom. Rikku hesitated for a little bit, not moving until she head the shower come on. Her cheeks puffed out in a sigh, and she hurried downstairs to find her father cooking some waffles for her. Rikku had joined a special summer program for freshmen at the high school she and Yuna were to be attending. It was a preliminary for the school's Freshmen Journalism class. Which, as a member of, she had been told to get to the school early to take pictures of students on the first day. She was to be one of a total of five photographers, three being upperclassmen, on the same assignment. So, as much as she hated to, she was going to have to part from Yuna before their first day even started. She just hoped they'd be able to see each other at lunch, or maybe even have a class or two together. Her father, owner of a small fleet of fishing trawlers, would be going in a little late in order to get Rikku to school on time.

She could feel her heart race, and she was full of anxious energy; both excited and scared. She was praying that high school would better than middle school, which had not been good for neither her nor Yuna. Yuna was quiet and shy, and usually immersed herself in books and schoolwork. So, she was labeled a nerd, of course. Rikku was more sociable and less awkward than Yuna around people, but she still found it hard to make friends. Her reputation soon became that of an idiot and a klutz, effectively ostracizing her from most of the social groups. But, she and Yuna pulled through. They had each other, and they rarely found themselves in need of many others. Though neither was against admitting that friends were still nice.

XXX

Paine's crimson eyes snapped open. Something had woken her, and it wasn't her alarm. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes and scratching her head as she listened intently. Part of her said that it was just some lingering memory from a dream, just her imagination outright. But, still a nagging voice assured her that she really had heard some sound. That, of course, would not bode well, seeing as how she was alone in the house. As usual. She kicked the covers away and threw her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes roaming around the dark room numbly.

_School_, she thought. _Fucking A_.

Her head whipped around, eyes locking on the door. She had heard something from downstairs. She was sure of it, this time. No imagination, no mind playing tricks on her. Someone was in her house! Her heart started to pound, and she quietly opened the drawer on the nightstand next to her bed. Inside, kept clean of clutter, was a Glock 22. Her older brother, Tom, had bought it for her. Back before he started leaving town periodically, he would take her out of the city into fields to teach her to shoot. He had hated to leave her at home alone, and he at least wanted her to be able to protect herself.

She clicked off the safety and crept to the door, easing it open and peeking out. The coast was clear, so she moved out and towards the stairs. The upstairs of her house was shaped a little like a T. Coming up from the stairs, one would find themselves in a straight hall with a door at the very end, which was Paine's brother, Tom's, old room. A connecting hall branching to the right was where her door was (first door on the right, after going right, ironically enough), and a single window at the end of that hall looked out onto their neighbors' house. Her nerves were frazzled, and she was still waking up, even with the adrenaline rushing through her. She crouched down and leaned around the corner, eyes sweeping the empty living room and stairway. That meant that whoever it was was in the kitchen, she figured. She drifted down to the first floor and pressed her back to the wall by the opening to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Paine swung around the corner, gun leveled, and yelled, "Don't move!"

Paine found herself dumbstruck.

It was a man. Mid-twenties. His hair was black, wild, ragged, and came down to just a little above his eyes, which were a muddy red, like a mix of copper and crimson. He had on a faded Meshuggah t-shirt and baggy black jeans. His arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos, with one tattoo on the left side of his neck; the letters MOSS were tattooed just below the knuckles of his left hand. There were three silver earrings in the cartilage of his right ear, and spider bites on the left side of his lower lip. He cracked a smile, beaming brightly at Paine.

"Morning!" He greeted, unfazed by the gun. "Nice thinking, by the way. Glad to see you're on your toes, kiddo."

Paine let the gun droop, her eyes softening and her mouth hanging open. "T-Tom?" She practically squeaked, at a loss for words.

As if looking for someone else, Tom looked side-to-side and then twirled around jerkily. "Finding" no one, he looked at his little sister and shrugged, "Yeah." He laid his hands on the island, which he was standing behind, his smile returning.

"Tom," Paine almost whimpered his name. She set the gun on the island and ran around it, throwing her arms around her older brother.

He placed his hands on her back, swaying a little, "Good to see you, too, Britt," he said softly. Tom was twenty-four years old, and had been the first rebel of their parents' eventual four children, the youngest being Paine – which was actually their last name, but she wound up introducing herself to people _as_ Paine, due to dislike for her first name. He was a musician, and had a bad history of getting involved with bands that eventually fell apart. That had all changed, however, when he was contacted by an established heavy metal outfit two years ago who had seen one of his priors play a gig. He had immediately agreed to join, as the band they had seen had already dissolved due to conflicting interests. She had only gotten phone calls and letters from him, since then.

"I didn't think you'd be back for a while," she murmured, her usually icy demeanor melting considerably.

"What?" He cried. "You think I'd miss my little sister's first day of high school? Hell, no!" He said with a laugh.

"Y-You remembered?" She didn't think he would. She didn't like thinking that he wouldn't care, but she figured he'd be too busy to be thinking about something as seemingly trivial as her first day of high school.

"Of course I did. If not me then who else, huh?" He chuckled.

When she finally broke away, she looked up and asked, "How long are you gonna be here?" She had already accepted that this was probably just going to be some short-term thing. Maybe a break or something like that. In any case, he wouldn't be around for long. Tom had been the greatest influence on Paine, who had quickly proved to be very much like him. If she had a best friend, it was him. Her two other brothers, of whom Tom was the second oldest, had both been very much like their parents – meaning "distant" – which just left them to each other.

Their mother and father owned a software company, Phosphorus, specializing in protective programs. The company was quite successful, affording them what could be considered a very comfortable life. Which, by the way, both she and Tom resented because of how it made their family turn out.

Tom grinned from ear-to-ear, "I'm back, Britt! Don't think I'll be leaving anytime soon, either."

Paine's eyes widened, "Are you serious?"

"Completely," he assured her. He turned back to the stove, where bacon was sizzling in a pan.

"W-What happened?" Paine stammered. "I thought things were going great!"

"Oh, they were," Tom muttered, his expression darkening.

Paine's eyebrows came together, "Tom, what's wrong?"

He turned the burner off and quickly scraped the bacon onto a plate, "Well, the band's still together," he explained as he went to make a cup of coffee.

Paine heard the suggestion in his voice, and finished for him, "Just without you, am I right?" Tom nodded. "W-Why? You had a great thing going, why quit?"

"'Cos I got sick of what I saw," he answered, surprising her further. "I mean, I had fun with the other bands, even if we had our troubles, you know?" He sipped his coffee and set the mug down. "We were doing what we were doing for ourselves, because we enjoyed playing. But, with these guys . . ." He trailed off.

"Oh," Paine nodded, finally understanding. She'd heard of this before. He had gotten a taste of the music industry by going along with a bigger band, and it had disgusted him. He was in it for the music, but everything had seemed like it was for money and attention, and little else. "I'm sorry, Tom." She said, biting her lip as she watched his expression.

"Nah, I'm fine," he waved the sympathy away. "'Sides, today's no day to be thinking about me, anyway!" He declared, his grin coming back. Her eyes traveled to his right arm. His first tattoo had been a skeletal serpent wrapping around his forearm, the mouth open, fangs bared, right where his thumb began. Whether it was spitting it up, swallowing it, or preparing to take a bite out of it, she had never been able to decide. Then all the rest came, over time, until his arms were blanketed by them. He snapped her out of her thoughts, "Hey, go get ready, all right? I'll make you some breakfast. I could even give you a ride, if you'd like. Maybe impress some people on your first day, huh?" He asked, winking playfully before taking a swig of coffee.

Another part of his rebellious streak: motorcycles. He had never owned a car, not ever. When their parents first heard he wanted one, they had at first refused. So, as a way to spite them, he went out and purchased what was needed to _build_ a motorcycle. He had once told her that, because of the high gas prices, he felt even better about having done it.

She had to admit, she was tempted take him up on his offer. But, she didn't want to seem stuck up by thinking that she needed to have her older brother drive her to school on a Harley just to impress people. Then again, she didn't want to impress anyone to begin with, it just wasn't who she was. "Thanks, but," she shook her head, "I'll take the bus. I don't want you wasting gas on taking me to school. I will take you up on breakfast, however," she said, smiling wryly.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Gas? Please. It's a motorcycle. I can go halfway across the country on the damned _fumes_. But, then again, riding the bus _does_ give you the full experience," he said thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

"Breakfast," Paine prodded as she headed back, making sure to take the Glock with her.

"Shower," Tom parried. She could hear him going through the cabinet as she reached the stairs. He heart swelled with excitement. Not about school, she didn't give a flying fuck about _that_. Having her brother around would make things more interesting, as it always had. He was kind of a nut, this she knew. He had an eccentric streak, and he was a little more social than her. He had been popular his whole life. Teachers, peers, even other parents had loved him. He'd had friends galore, and Paine seemed to live in his shadow when she went through school. She didn't care all that much, and she never held it against him. The only thing she hated about it was that people seemed to want to compare her to him, like they were the exact same person. For all their similarities, they were still two uniquely different people.

After showering, she came back down in baggy jeans with frayed hems and a Disturbed t-shirt under an open black pinstripe vest. Tom was plating some eggs and bacon for her as she came into the kitchen, and he did a doubletake at the sight of her attire. He leaned to the left, looking at her Globe Scribes by the foot of the stairs, and arched an eyebrow as he straightened.

"What?" She asked, furrowing her brow.

"You're confused," he chuckled, shaking his head as he slid a freshly poured cup of coffee her way. "You got a rocker/emo/skater thing going on. The middle one makes me wanna, oh, disown you."

"Screw you," Paine shot back through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. On second thought, she went to the fridge and grabbed some ketchup.

"Hey, I'm not saying it doesn't fit you, but . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head as he laughed quietly to himself.

"'But' what?" She asked

"It's the worst three letter word in the English language, Britt." He asserted. "It's evil, and it makes Dimebag roll over in his grave." He jabbed a finger her way as he went into the living room and turned on the TV.

"I-"

"Dio, too!" Tom quickly added.

Paine rolled her eyes, "Like I said: screw you."

"Want me to make this ridiculous?" He called over the sounds of morning daytime television.

"It isn't already?" Paine asked, leaning over to see him seated upside down on the couch, his legs hanging down from over the top. _Yep_, she thought, _he's back_. He'd started doing that around the age of eleven. He would just hop up onto the back of the couch and then slip backwards. Of course, nowadays he would just "fall" back over the top.

"I could add the three guys from Skynyrd who died in the crash, too." He said.

"I thought four of them died in the crash," Paine said, raising her voice a little.

"No, only three of them were actually members of the band. You're thinking of their assistant road manager. Uh . . . Dean Kilpatrick, I think."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're autistic, Tom," Paine quipped as she carried the last piece of bacon and her coffee into the living room, sitting down next to her awkwardly seated brother. "You remember the shit no one else cares to."

"That's because I really care," he mumbled in a mock hurt voice. "Either way, the- Wait, what time do the buses run?" He asked, cocking his head in her direction.

"Um," Paine squinted as she tried to remember, "About eight, I think."

"Oh. Well. You got time." He lifted his legs and let them fall over onto the arm of the couch, which he then pulled himself up onto. "It's, uh," he raised his finger into the air before pointing off to his right, "On that corner down there, right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why?"

"Nostalgia," Tom answered.

Paine snorted, "I'm sure."

"You know your voice will stick like that," Tom warned as he got up and stretched.

"My _voice_?" Paine cried.

"Yeah. Face, voice, genitals, they all stick when you mess with them. So don't do it." He started up the stairs.

"How crazy have you gone without me around, huh?" Paine asked, watching him with a soft smirk playing at her lips.

"Completely _fucking_ insane," Tom answered with a grin. He passed beyond the wall, going into the hall where the rooms would be. "Why is your room so dark?" He yelled loudly. Paine choked on a laugh as she carried her mug back into the kitchen. "Although I must congratulate you," he said, leaning back out as she headed for the stairs, "No pictures of semi-naked Twifags. Very becoming." He vanished behind the wall again.

"Oh, don't get me started on that!" Paine groaned. "I had enough of that bullshit during middle school."

"Oh, I can imagine," Tom laughed. She found him paused in front of the door to his room, which hadn't been opened in some time. He looked back over his shoulder when she reached the second floor. "I'm gonna, uh," he coughed and headed back for the stairs, "Yeah. You go and get ready, though!" He said, clapping her on the shoulder as he passed. Paine quickly brushed her teeth and grabbed a spiral-bound notebook, pen, her iPod, and a pair of aviator sunglasses from her room before heading back downstairs. She was stepping into her shoes when the front door opened and Tom walked in. She gave him a questioning look, and spied a glimpse of a U-Haul parked out front before he shut the door.

"Wha-"

"Ho-lee _hell_!" He growled, tugging on his shirt to air it out. "Hotter than a fuck on a Saturday." Paine blinked, but let it slide. "Glasses were a good choice, too," he pointed to the aviators, which were currently hanging from the front of Paine's shirt. "Have fun," he said teasingly as they passed one-another.

Paine stopped at the door and turned, "Any advice for me before I head out?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Without hesitating, without even _thinking_ on it, Tom answered by saying, "Yeah, no blowjobs on the bus," as he started up the steps.

"Wha- _Tom_!" She cried indignantly.

"No blowjobs!" He quickly reaffirmed, pointing a finger accusingly at her before disappearing behind the wall. Shaking her head at his absurdity, Paine headed out into the sweltering heat for the bus stop, plugging her ears and drowning out the world around her with music. She slipped her aviators on and lingered shortly to look at the U-Haul, wondering what exactly he had brought with him. Just as she was about to head off, something behind her crashed, and she whirled around, heart suddenly racing. The upper window, where Tom's room was, was opened, and the tower from his old computer now lay in a wrecked heap upon the sidewalk. Paine decided not to think on it, and started walking. She would be going left from her house, turning right at the end of the block, and then going straight to the next corner, which was where her bus stop was.

The heat started to get to her quickly, and she was already sweating by the time she reached the first corner. She could see a few other kids already waiting, and the preliminary sensation that usually gave rise to the unsettling feeling of being stared at began to build up inside her. She honestly hated attention, especially when a lot of people were looking at her, and past experiences had left her paranoid about how others were going to act. In short, she had become judgmental and antisocial after being bullied, picked on, and tormented by classmates. But, instead of letting it weaken her, she had just let it toughen her, even though the side affect was virtual exile from others, for the most part, as well as cynicism and borderline-pessimistic realism. She wasn't unapproachable, she was just hard to talk to – stemming from trust issues, generally.

To her relief only maybe two of them so much as glanced at her when she took up a spot nearby. She stood stoically, facing forward and focusing on her music. Now that she had stopped moving, it began to feel like the sun had begun to pinpoint all its heavy heat on her, and found herself begging for the bus to hurry up and get to their stop. Soon she was even tugging at her shirt, which began to feel suffocating as it trapped all the heat it could, just baking her.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she silently thanked who or whatever was looking out for her when she saw the bus turning the corner she had come from. There already seemed to be some kids on the bus, and she hoped that there wouldn't be a war for seats or anything. For that matter, she really hoped that no one decided to sit next to her. Those seats were always too damn small, no leg room . . .

She filed on with the rest, and _calmly_ (as if) dove into the first empty seat she could and slid the window down. She noticed most of the other kids were headed as far back into the bus as possible, which she was completely fine with. As long as it kept them from her. The bus lingered after the last student got on, and Paine turned around, brow knit, to see a girl with short, brown hair running down the sidewalk. Paine rolled her eyes and slumped in her seat, head resting on the window as her eyes drifted lazily over the scenery beyond. _I'm a convict being transported to prison . . no, no prison would probably be better than this shit_, she thought bitterly. Heat and proximity to people further agitating her, she figured. The bus rocked a little as the girl climbed aboard, and seconds later Paine was jolted when – just her luck – the late brunette plopped down right next to her, chest heaving, eyes closed, and face slick with sweat as she fought to catch her breath.

_Great_, Paine sighed, _the perfect ditz: pretty and oblivious._

The bus lurched forward, and Paine's head smacked the window. She felt a quick stab of anger as she straightened, slipping her legs as far under the seat in front of her as she could. Her eyes roamed to the girl next to her. She had apparently calmed down, but she still seemed a little fidgety. Then she realized that this girl had a backpack. _Oh, yeah,_ Paine chuckled to herself. _Bookworm. Who the _fuck_ brings a backpack on the _first day_?_ The girl glanced over at Paine and, with a slight smile, said something. Paine reluctantly unplugged one of her ears. With a rush, all the white noise of conversation invaded her liberated ear. "Hm?" She asked in a bored grunt.

"Oh, sorry!" The girl laughed nervously. "I was just saying that I, uh . . that I liked your glasses." She stumbled a bit over her words, and her voice shook a little as she spoke.

"Thanks," Paine grumbled.

Just before she could put her earphone back in, the girl introduced herself, "I'm Yuna, by the way." Her smile grew, and as she turned to face Paine, she realized that this "Yuna" had complete heterochromia, her left eye being blue, and her right eye green. She sucked in a breath in surprise, never having met a person with even a partial or sectoral case. It really was beautiful, if not a little unnerving. Still, Paine found herself transfixed and caught off guard, something that did not happen often.

She quickly gathered her wits about her and replied evenly, "Paine."

"Is that with an 'e'?" Yuna asked, absentmindedly tracing the letter out in mid-air. Paine just nodded, and this only seemed to spur the girl on. "So, are you freshman or upperclassman? I'm a freshman, myself." She informed, a little awkwardly, Paine noticed. The bus took a sharp turn, and Paine pressed hard on the floor to keep from falling into Yuna. _Fucking A_, she cursed inwardly.

"Freshman," she answered, not exactly feeling "chatty" at the moment.

Yuna just nodded, and went on, "My cousin is, too. But, she had to be there early for some journalism thing, I think." Paine wondered if she just felt obligated to keep going, or it this was all her anxiety. "I just ho-"

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Paine interrupted numbly.

Yuna seemed stunned, her mouth stuck in a little "o" as she stared at the silver-haired girl next to her. She recovered slowly, "U-Um, well . . y-yeah, I g-guess so."

"Don't be," Paine advised, shaking her head. "It's a new place, and there are a lot of people. So? Just worry about getting through the day, and not anyone around you. But, we _are_ freshmen, so get ready to take some shit for the week, because they _will_ pamper us, and the upperclassmen will _not_ like it."

"'Pamper'?" Yuna asked, cocking her head.

A voice in the back of her head told Paine to say, "You look like a dog when you do that." But, considering that she did not even know this girl, and taking into account how jittery she seemed, she decided not to. Instead, she supplied an answer, "Yeah, you know. They'll let us out early, all the 'special' seniors will be out to give directions and answer questions, we'll probably have a whole lunch shift to ourselves for a few days, and they'll probably let us go to the buses before everyone else for a while, too. That sort of stuff."

Yuna's eyes turned to the seat in front of them, "Oh."

"Yep," Paine sighed. "It's not like it makes anything easier, it just makes us targets."

Yuna giggled, "I was just about to say that." Her expression altered for a moment, and she suddenly asked, "Hey, is it true that the seniors sell fake elevator passes to underclassmen?"

Paine blinked.

"Uh . . ." She started to say, voice stalling as she tried to formulate an answer that would not totally obliterate this poor girl's confidence in a single fell swoop. But, before she could successfully do so, Yuna pointed at the window.

"Oh! We're here!" She exclaimed.

_West Grove High School_, Paine thought as she looked over the front of the school, where a C shaped curve of pavement branched off from the main road, leading to the front of the school and then back out into traffic, leaving a D shaped island of grass in between the school and the road. Everything was red brick and white stone, creating a picturesque if not overbearingly plain and cliché example of a modern high school. The parking lot was off to the left of the school, by another street.

Paine rolled her eyes, _They always come up with such shitty names_.

_Oi! Well, it's finally out. The prequel to "Frozen"._


End file.
